


Ab's Song

by samspanicroom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 19:14:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samspanicroom/pseuds/samspanicroom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I miss when your body was resting on top of my body<br/>That was the only time I knew what purpose felt like<br/>And I wish I could tell you <br/>that you should have waited for the building to collapse<br/>before you jumped.<br/>I wanted to watch it fall with you”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ab's Song

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a short angsty fic, I got inspired by the song Ab's Song by Iron and Wine.

Sam died at 23.

Dean remembered thinking, “This is so fucked up, this is so fucked up. He can be fixed, it’s just cancer.” He realized that after he thought it, his life was over.

"Dean!" Sam gasped out as the doctors and nurses hoarded around him. The machines that were connected to him were beeping and Dean thought it sounded like a crime scene. In a sense, it was.

"Sammy, I’m here. Oh god, Sammy.. Sammy.." Dean mumbled through tears. He stood at the side of his brother like a rock, holding his hand as tight as he possibly could, hoping somehow he would never have to let go. He refused the gentle but firm pushes of the nurses, and the thin whisperings of words like, "Sir, you need to step away."

"Dean, listen to me..Dean.." Sam breathed as he grabbed his brother by the collar and tugged him down to his lips in a sweet kiss. "Dean, I’m dying, okay? I know that." Dean pulled away swiftly.

"No you’re not, god damn it! You can’t! Sammy, please, you can’t… you can’t leave me…" Dean buckled forward under the weight of the reality of this situation. Gasping for air, he knew he had to be strong, be strong for Sam god damn it. You’re the only thing he’s got left in his short time. Tell him you understand. Tell him you’ll be okay. Tell him…

"Sam I love you, okay?" Dean struggled to get out.

"I love you, too.." Sam breathed and stroked his brother’s face. "Don’t-" Sam gasped these last words. These words Dean would never understand; the words he would spend the rest of his life rolling over in his head.

"Don’t love anyone else like you loved me."

Then there was a long, shallow beep.  
—————————————————————————————————-  
He never believed in those movies, anyway.

Those movies where a lover dies and says, “It’s okay, I want you to be happy, and you’ll be happy with someone else the way you were happy with me.”

Gross.  
——————————————————————————————————  
 _"My love for you will always grow…"_

Dean hummed along to Sam’s favorite song in the car. Ab’s Song by Iron and Wine. He had memorized the entire album that was on.

"Dean, just listen for me?" Sam would say late at night, resting his head on Dean’s lap as he popped the CD into the player. Dean would always have his left hand on the steering wheel and his right running his fingers through Sam’s hair.

_"Bury me in the sunshine. Please let me know that you’re still mine…"_

Jesus fucking Christ. It had only been 2 weeks since Sam died. Dean liked to make himself miserable, though. He cranked the radio up even louder.

_"And when the grass grows over me, let me know you still love me."_

_"Never put nobody else above me."_

_"Though I’m gone, my love for you is oh so strong."_

_————————————————————————————————————_

Sam said something about waiting before he died. Like it was something you only needed to do when something good is going to happen. No one waited for bad things to happen. They just …  _happen._ No one anticipates it. It just comes out of nowhere and knocks you down and doesn’t wait for you to accept it.

"But if you watch the trees and the birds and the mountains, it gets easier to deal with." Sam had said. "They don’t even mind the bad things. They just… deal with it."

That was the most okay Dean had ever felt.

—————————————————————————————————————-

Dean held a bouquet of bougainvilleas in his hands, Sam’s favorite flower.

He stood planted beside the passenger side of the Impala, he couldn’t move himself. It had been a month since Sam died. This is the first time he’d been to his grave.

There wasn’t even a funeral, or wake. No one would have came. Dean was all Sam had, and Sam was all Dean had.

Dean didn’t want to cremate him, no. Sam wanted to be in the ground.

"I’ll come back to haunt your ass if you burn me, Dean. I mean it." Sam had said in his bed at the hospital. "I want to be with the earth when I’m done with this life."

Sam was always saying some weird shit like that. But Dean loved it.

"Yeah, alright Sam. I got it the first 40 times." Dean mumbled. 

He now wished he told Sam to keep talking. He wished he told Sam to never stop talking, maybe God would have liked his strange vocabulary and flowery nature and he would have let Dean keep him for a little while longer.

He was buried in Lawrence, Kansas. It was another thing Sam insisted on: “A soul needs to be laid to rest where it first awoke.”

Dean smiled and walked towards Sam’s grave. There was a lot of grass growing over it already. Sam had of course said something about this, also.

"If there’s flowers on my grave, rip them up. Even grass. I don’t want plants on me."

Dean had asked why.

"Because I don’t need them and I don’t want them to need me."

"Sam-"

"No, Dean. I’m serious. Don’t let it happen. When I’m dead nothing needs me, okay? No one will need me to live, do you understand?"

He hadn’t then, but he did now.

Dean did what his brother wanted. He tore and ripped the grass right out of Sam’s grave. His eyes stung with tears and his throat was raw. He felt like he was carrying out some great and meaningful task. He was.

When all the grass was out he sat and sobbed into his shirt sleeves. But he wasn’t crying for sadness, or even happiness. Neither happiness or sadness, positive or negative, could describe how he was feeling at this moment.

He thought about the times before Sam was sick. The nights that they spent together in the back of the Impala, when Dean would say “You wanna get a motel room?” And Sam would say “No.” In response.

"I’m fine here, with you." He would whisper into Dean’s neck.

Dean would smile and press his nose into Sam’s hair.

The motor of the Impala purred as Dean sped away.

—————————————————————————————————

Dean wrote them on diner napkins.

_"I miss when your body was resting on top of my body_   
_That was the only time I knew what purpose felt like_   
_And I wish I could tell you_   
_that you should have waited for the building to collapse_  
before you jumped.   
_I wanted to watch it fall with you”_

Sam loved poetry.

"More than me." Dean would tease.

"Of course not." Sam would respond, planting a kiss on Dean’s lips.

"I love nothing more than you." 

The words rang in Dean’s ears.

——————————————————————————————————

"Heya, Sammy."

"Hi, Dean."

"What’s the matter?"

"Oh nothing, I’m just dying."

"Sam, no."

"Dean! Stop acting like it isn’t gonna happen!"

"It’s not."

"This is ridiculous. You’re not even a man. Why can’t you admit it? I’ve accepted it now you need to too!"

"No."

————————————————————————————-

"Don’t love anyone else like you loved me."

————————————————————————————-

Dean died at 29.

In Lawrence, Kansas.

Under the old willow tree

With a note that read:

"I never wanted to, anyway."

————————————————————————————-

**Author's Note:**

> Give the song a listen here! :)
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=miK0GoVt560


End file.
